


Double Dates Mean Trouble

by padfootagain



Category: British Actor RPF
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Romantic Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-19 12:34:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17001765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/padfootagain/pseuds/padfootagain
Summary: When your best friend forces you into a double-date, you are certain to meet a catastrophe, but instead, you are welcome by a very handsome actor…





	1. Date n°1

**Author's Note:**

> Mainly fluff, hope you like this :)

“I hate you.”

“Y/N, we both know that’s not true. I annoy you at the most.”

“I can’t believe you trapped me into this…”

“Steve says that this friend of his is very charming.”

“If he’s as charming as this colleague of yours that you’ve forced me to meet two weeks ago, I think I’d better run away right now.”

“Bernard is… kind.”

“And twice my age.”

“Age shouldn’t matter.”

“Says the woman who’s happily married to a man who’s one year younger than her.”

“Y/N, stop complaining. And arrange your dress, for Christ’s sake!”

You heaved an infuriated sigh, straightening your dress. Your best friend had dragged you into this restaurant, saying that she needed to talk to you about something. That she and her husband Steve had something to celebrate, so you had to dress up like a ‘real lady’ (her words, definitely not yours) and not wear your usual sweater.  

And that’s how you found yourself trapped into a double date.

Yes, a double date. And as Steve and Leila were married, it wasn’t even really a real double date, because there was already one couple formed around the table.

You wanted to punch your best friend in the face. And of course you wouldn’t do that, because you would never hit a pregnant woman.

The cunning woman had thought about every details.

She had been trying to find yourself a man for months now. She couldn’t understand that you didn’t _want_ a new relationship. You didn’t want to meet a man you could like. The wounds the last man had left as he had broken your heart were not completely healed yet.

But would your best friend listen to you and pity your poor broken heart?

Absolutely. Not.

And here you were, in a very uncomfortable - yet beautiful - black dress in a restaurant in L.A., waiting for an improvised date, when you could be at home in some very comfortable jeans and XXL T-shirt, watching some Netflix show and eating ice cream.

Leila had a talent to spoil your evenings.

You drank some water, still waiting for Steve and his mysterious friend to arrive. You checked your watch. They were late. One bad point for him.

“Steve said that you were going to melt the second you would see him,” Leila told you. “He said he was gorgeous.”

“If he’s so gorgeous, then how come that Steve didn’t become Gay when he first saw him?”

“Very funny. Try not to make bad jokes when he’s here.”

“Have you even met this guy before?”

“No. But I know who he is. And he is _not_ twice your age. And he seems to be perfectly normal, and _not_ a psychopath. God knows that these days it’s not nothing… And I can confirm Steve’s verdict : he’s gorgeous.”

“Did Steve show you a picture of him?”

A mischievous smile appeared on Leila’s face.

Which was never a good sign…

“No, he didn’t,” she answered mysteriously.

“How can you know if he’s good-looking or not then?” you asked.

“Because he’s famous.”

“Famous?”

Leila nodded.

“Who is he?” you asked your friend, suddenly curious.

“Oh look at you!” Leila teased you. “You’re all interested now, aren’t you?”

You shrugged, determined not to show to your friend that you _were_ interested… in knowing who was about to arrive, of course.

Nothing more.

Nothing….

No, you were not going to change your mind about all this mess.

“Come on,” you insisted. “Who is he?”

But Leila placed a finger on her lips and shook her head, a devilish smile plastered on her face.

“Then I’ll probably be completely ridiculous when I see him,” you shrugged. “Have you thought about my reaction when I recognize him?”

Leila nodded slowly.

“You may have a point. You’ll look like a moron.”

“Exactly,” you nodded. “So…”

She grabbed your arm and shrieked in excitement.

“It’s Ben Barnes!”

Your eyes grew very wide.

“What?”

You couldn’t believe it. There had to be a mistake somewhere. You couldn’t have a double date with _BEN BARNES_!

No…

…Yes?

“Ben Barnes?” you breathed.

Leila nodded, completely hysterical by now.

“Steve and some other of his friends have tried to find someone for him for months apparently. But he was away for some… movie or something. And he only came back yesterday.”

“Wait… if Steve is friend with an actor, then why don’t you know him?”

Leila shrugged.

“They just met at work or something. Don’t ask me. Anyway, that’s the guy.”

“Oh my God…”

“I know, honey. I know…”

She tightened her grip on your arm, suddenly deadly serious, and the look in her eyes was a bit scary…

“Y/N, you’d better not fuck that up.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Y/N, can you imagine? I could have Ben Barnes for brother-in-law!”

You rolled your eyes.

“Okay, first… We’re best friends, not sisters.”

“That’s the same damn thing.”

You rolled your eyes again.

“And it’s not because he’s a talented actor that I’m going to actually _like_ him.”

She laughed.

“Honey, we’re talking about Ben Barnes. Of course you’re going to _like_ him.”

“Not necessarily.”

“Sorry but… who literally begged me for days to go see the third Narnia movie?”

You pouted.

“I happen to like Narnia, that’s all…”

“Y/N. Trust me. This time, it’s the right one. I can feel it.”

“You can feel it?”

“Yes, here,” she added, pointing at her heart. “Here, in my heart, I can feel it. You two are _made_ for each other.”

You laughed.

“With my luck, he’ll probably be an asshole,” you replied wryly.

“Apparently, he’s very sweet. According to Steve.”

“I’m really beginning to think that Steve should be the one dating this guy…”

“Shut up.”

“If you tell him about Narnia though, I’ll kill you,” you warned your friend.

But she was suddenly frozen on the spot.

“What?” you asked, frowning.

“Oh my God… I saw Steve by the window.”

“For Christ’s sake, you’re even more nervous than I am when _I_ am the one who’s supposed to have a date with a perfect stranger.”

“Shhhh! They’re coming. Stand up. Stand up!”

You stood up, laughing at your hysterical friend. Then, you turned towards the door to see them coming and…

You saw him as he approached the table, walking towards you. He was wearing a creamy suit and a black tie and a white shirt and… He caught almost immediately your eyes with his brown, almost black gaze and…

You. Were. Done.

Butterflies in your stomach? That felt more like fireworks.

You were aware of his short black beard, and his perfect dark hair, but all you could look at was his eyes.

Was there even some end to these eyes? They seemed infinitely deep.

You had never believed in love at first sight, not even in crushes. To you, if you ever felt anything for someone, it couldn’t be just by looking at this person.

And yet…

He stopped before you, his chocolate brown eyes still fixed on your own. But he didn’t move nor speak, as if…

As if he was in the same state as you were. Completely oblivious of the rest of the world.

Steve patted his shoulder, as if Steve wanted to bring him back down to earth, and he shook himself.

He offered you his open hand, a smile grazing his lips, blushing slightly.

“Hi,” he said, his smile widening. “I’m Ben. Ben Barnes.”

“Hi,” you answered, a stupid grin plastered on your face, shaking his hand. “Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Y/N?” he asked.

“Yes, that’s it,” you nodded.

“Y/N…”

He repeated your name one more time, his voice just a whisper.

You were still holding hands, grinning like idiots, standing in the middle of the restaurant.

And you didn’t see it, but Steve and Leila exchanged an excited glance.

Finally, you realized that you had been holding hands for _way_ too long for it to be normal, and so you pulled slightly. He started, and freed your hand from his warm fingers in a hurry, clearly uncomfortable.

You finally sat down, and you were sure that your cheeks had turned crimson by the content smirk Leila gave you.

But when you looked at Ben again, he was blushing as well. And that was the cutest thing in the world.

Had you changed your mind about the evening?

100%.

Were you going to kill Leila?

Hell no. You were going to worship her for the rest of your life.

You just hoped he was kind, and not an idiot. You just hoped that because…

Because your heart was beating so fast already, you thought you were about to have a heart attack.

You mentally prepared yourself to tick this list of yours that was always in a corner of your head when you met a man. The list of things you wanted so desperately in a man. The things that would make a man absolutely perfect for you.

You could already tick every single thing that dealt with charisma and beauty.

The waitress already arrived, giving you each a menu, and you started to read the list of dishes in silence.

You couldn’t help but look over the menu towards Ben, and you caught him doing just the same. You both blushed fiercely, before exchanging a shy smile.

You focused on the food again.

But you could feel that he was watching you all along, and it made your smile turn into a grin.

You all passed your orders to the waitress, and finally, the conversations began.

Steve and Leila bragged about Ben and you, and how talented you both were at your jobs and how lovely people you were…

And after twenty minutes of non-stop bragging, you and Ben started to uncontrollably laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Leila asked, stopping as she was about to bring her glass of red wine to her lips.

“You haven’t stopped talking for more than twenty minutes now, you know?” Ben said, still laughing.

“Did we?” Steve asked.

“Yes, you did.”

“Well… of course, none of you is speaking at all.”

“Because it’s absolutely impossible to interrupt you once you’ve started to talk that much,” you replied.

“Alright, lead the conversation then,” Leila challenged you.

You shrugged, before turning towards Ben.

But as you were not speaking in less than three seconds, Leila started to speak again…

Until finally, the conversation was set between her and her husband alone, and Ben and you were finally ignored by the bickering couple.

“These two _really_ talk too much,” you smiled.

“Do you think there’s a switch or something to turn them off?” Ben asked.

You laughed.

“I’ve tried,” you nodded, faking despair. “Years of research.”

“And? Your conclusion?”

“Desperate case. There’s nothing we can do for them.”

“A shame. I still had hoped for this one,” he said, nodding towards Steve.

“She’s having a bad influence on him.”

“Maybe if we ask nicely, the cook could drop something in their plate to make them shut up.”

You laughed again.

“That would be cruel.”

He looked at his watch.

“Forty minutes of non-stop talking… I’d say it’s a question of survival.”

You laughed. Again.

You mentally ticked the boxs for ‘funny’ and 'sense of humour’ in your list.

He smiled at you, his eyes roaming your face, studying your features as he picked up his glass and drank some wine.

You were not sure your heart could survive till the end of the evening. Not if he kept at looking at you like that.

“So… How did you and Leila meet?” he asked you.

“We’re friends since childhood. You know, same school and all.”

He nodded.

“Do you have any brothers and sisters?” you asked the first question that crossed your mind.

“One. A younger brother, yes,” he nodded.

And then he asked you a question.

And you asked him one.

And for the rest of the meal you just talked to him, completely oblivious of what happened around the two of you.

And you couldn’t remember any date where you had felt so connected to someone.

In fact, you couldn’t remember being _ever_ so connected to someone, even with people you had been in relationship with.

And too soon, you were picking up your coat, and walking towards the door.

He insisted to pay for you. For which you obviously refused, but that was still nice to hear.

He held the door for you to walk out of the restaurant.

And as you thought about his general attitude towards you during the evening, you ticked the box for 'gentleman’ as well.

He called for a cab, and turned towards you.

But before he could tell you anything Leila and Steve had rushed into the car.

“Bye!” they cried as the car started and soon disappeared into the traffic.

You and Ben both laughed.

“That was so much like in _When Harry met Sally_ ,” you laughed.

He nodded, grabbing his side as he couldn’t stop laughing either.

“You’re right,” he said. “ _That_ was a weird evening.”

“Very weird.”

You both stayed before the restaurant for a few minutes, waiting for a cab.

“My car is not far from here,” Ben offered, as no taxi seemed to be coming your way. “I can give you a ride if you want.”

You nodded.

“That would be very kind, thank you.”

You started to walk down the street. Your pace was slow, and he didn’t seem to be willing to walk faster.

None of you seemed to want this evening to end.

“By the way, you didn’t tell me,” he said, making you look up at him again. “Why did you accept to do this? The double date?”

You laughed.

“I didn’t accept anything,” you replied. “I was lured into this.”

“Really?”

You nodded.

“Leila told me that she and Steve had something to celebrate, and so I had to meet them at this restaurant at 7pm, and I had to wear a dress because it was a special occasion.”

He laughed.

“I see.”

“What about you?”

“Steve blackmailed me.”

You raised a surprised eyebrow.

“He blackmailed you? Why… do you have dark secrets that are not to be revealed?”

He laughed again.

“No, I don’t. And I guess it’s not really blackmail. But I’m supposed to go to an exposition a friend of mine is organizing next week. And… he’s a very sweet guy but… It’s gonna be desperately boring.”

You laughed.

“So the deal was that you came tonight…” you started.

“And in exchange he would come with me to this boring evening, yes,” he nodded.

“So they both trapped us into this mess,” you joked.

You were still laughing when you reached his car. And he opened the door for you to climb in, and he closed it after you were sit.

Gentleman till the end…

You gave him your address and he started to drive, and a comfortable silence settled between the two of you.

It wasn’t a strange or a creepy silence. It wasn’t the kind of silence that settled between strangers. It wasn’t the kind of silence that made you want to leave to make it stop.

It was a warm silence. A welcoming one. One that merely let you know that you didn’t need to speak to the person next to you for this person to understand you.

After a long while, Ben finally spoke, his low and warm voice feeling like honey in your ears.

“Can I make a confession?” he asked softly.

“Of course,” you smiled, looking at him as he drove.

You saw him struggle for words, and despite the darkness of the night, you noticed that his cheeks were slightly flushed.

“Even if Steve and Leila… Lured us into this or blackmailed us into this… I’m happy they did. I’m glad I met you.”

He detached his dark eyes from the road to look at you, and you were sure that he saw you blushing.

But you didn’t care.

“I’m glad I met you too,” you breathed, your voice barely audible above the sound of the car and the busy streets outside.

You exchanged an earnest smile, before he would focus on the road again.

“You…” he stuttered slightly. “You wouldn’t want… to… see me again, by any chance?”

An amused smile appeared on your lips as you watched him struggle for words. Who would have guessed that under his confident expression, he was defensive as well, hesitant?

You ticked the box 'a little shy’ as well.

“I mean…” he went on as you remained silent for a moment. “I thought that maybe we could have a… more normal date. Without having a crazy couple sitting next to us.”

You chuckled, but still didn’t answer.

“I would understand if you didn’t want to though,” he said more seriously. “It’s okay. What happens now is up to you.”

You ticked 'gentle’ and 'kind’ as well…

He looked at you again.

“So? What would you like to do?”

You merely smiled, and pointed at a little house down the street.

“That’s my home over there,” you told him.

He nodded, and parked the car before your little house.

He intensely stared at you, and took your silence for an answer.

“I see,” he breathed, and though he was trying to hide it, you could read in his brown eyes that he was disappointed. “It’s okay. I hope you find someone better one day, then.”

You smiled.

“Do you like Hitchcock’s movies?” you suddenly blurted out.

He raised an eyebrow, before narrowing his eyes at you.

“I… I love Hitchcock’s movies actually,” he answered.

“There’s a little cinema downtown, they play his old movies this weekend. Would you like to go watch one with me?”

He grinned.

“I’d love to,” he nodded.

“Any preference?”

“I’m sure you’ll choose wisely.”

You both grinned.

“Despite our crazy friends,” you said slowly, “I’ve spent a very good evening with you.”

“I’ve spent a lovely evening as well, Y/N.”

You grinned again, and when you spoke, your smile didn’t falter.

“Good night, Ben.”

“Good night, Y/N.”

You opened the door and climbed down of the car, before walking to your house. And you knew he was staring at you until you closed the door of your home on you.

That night when you closed your eyes, his grin was the last image glued to your eyelids. And your last thought was that it shouldn’t be legal to have such a beautiful smile.

What you didn’t know was that he thought just the same of you..


	2. Date n°2

“Okay… I stop. I quit. That’s it… Holy fuck… I think I’m going to have a heart attack.”

Ben merely laughed.

“Don’t dare laughing! Don’t dare laughing!”

Steve walked down the treadmill, completely out of breath.

“Anyway,” Steve went on, sweeping the sweat away from his forehead. “You’re the one who has to gain muscles for a role, not me.”

Ben rolled his eyes.

“You’re talking as if I had to look like Captain America by the end of the week,” Ben replied. “It’s just a physical role, I don’t have to _gain muscles_.”

“Then why do you inflect all this on yourself?!”

Ben laughed at his friend.

“Because it’s funny watching you running. Or well… more like trying to run.”

Steve threw his head backwards, looking at the ceiling.

“I still can’t catch my breath,” Steve complained.

“I think you should come do this with me more often.”

“I beg your pardon? To look at you not even sweating when I’m dying already? Not a chance. I’m never coming here with you again. ”

“You should though, clearly you’re not in a very good shape.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because you’re near to have a heart attack when you’ve been running for less than ten minutes.”

“I may be in a less good shape than you are,” Steve replied. “I may not be a famous actor. I may not be as handsome as you, but who is happily married and will soon be a dad again?”

“Now, _that_ was mean,” Ben replied, faking outrage.

Steve leaned against the wall next to Ben’s treadmill.

“How is Leila by the way?” Ben asked.

“The baby should be coming in two weeks. She’s terrified and overexcited. Just like me.”

They exchanged a smile.

“I’m happy for you,” Ben earnestly smiled.

Steve crossed his arms before his chest, a mischievous expression on his face now.

“What about you, Mr. Running?” he asked.

“What about me what?” Ben asked innocently.

“You and Y/N?”

Ben stared at the window before him.

“What about me and Y/N?”

“She told Leila that you had taken her home the other day,” Steve went on.

“Well, I didn’t really have a choice, as you stole my cab,” Ben reminded him.

“We stole your taxi so that you could accompany her home.”

“Well, congratulations. Your devilish plan worked perfectly.”

“And Y/N also told my wonderful wife that you were supposed to see each other again this weekend…”

Ben smiled, before picking up his bottle and drinking a gulp of fresh water.

“Yeah, I’m seeing her again this weekend.”

“Where?” Steve asked, curiosity shining in his eyes.

“A little cinema downtown.”

“Hitchcock’s movies?”

“Yeah.”

Steve nodded.

“She loves Hitchcock,” he told Ben.

“I had guessed that.”

“Which movie have you chosen?”

“No idea. I’ve let her choose.”

“Dangerous.”

“Why? I like Hitchcock anyway.”

“No, I was talking about her in general.”

“She doesn’t seem to be a serial killer though.”

Steve rolled his eyes, but when he spoke again, he was deadly serious.

“Her ex was an asshole. She struggled to get over it. So…”

“So?”

Steve shrugged.

“I don’t know if she’s going to _want_ a relationship.”

Ben intensely looked at him.

“Why did you introduce me to her in the first place then?” he asked.

“Because Leila wanted me to.”

Ben stopped running, staring at his friend.

“So… you’re saying that it’s pointless anyway?” he asked.

“Of course not,” Steve shook his head. “I’m just saying that you should be cautious with her, and not rush things. She’s still fragile from this bad relationship. That’s all I’m saying. Don’t rush her.”

Ben nodded, and resumed his run.

“I can do that,” he nodded.

“For now you think you can,” Steve mumbled under his breath, and Ben didn’t catch his words.

Ben seemed tired of running, so he turned towards the weights at the back of the room.

“Come on, let’s do something else,” he told Steve, patting his shoulder.

“You’ve got to be kidding me…”

“Come on!”

“I hate you Benjamin Barnes…”

——————————————————————————————————

You were nervous. Like… hysterically nervous. You hadn’t been so nervous for a date since… high school. You heaved a sigh.

You were pathetic, feeling like a teenager again.

You walked into the cinema, searching for his silhouette through the hall filled with strangers. You easily spotted him, standing there, in a corner of the hall, wearing a brown leather jacket a black T-shirt and a pair of jeans. He was looking at his phone, casually leaning against the wall, a hand buried into the pocket of his jacket. He was frowning slightly as he focused on whatever he was doing on his phone.

You took a deep breath, and walked towards him.

He seemed to feel your movements, as he looked up towards you before you had reached him. You saw his eyes scan your body, roaming from your feet to your face, resting a bit longer on your cleavage, and you made a mental note to thank Leila for letting you borrow this top of hers that, let’s be honest, revealed just enough of you to get his attention. You remembered Leila’s words not an hour before while she was helping you choose your cloths.

“For now, you’re still in a seducing phase. So girl, go big or go home.”

Go big or go home.

Go big or go home.

Go big…

He grinned as you finally reached him.

“Hi!”

…or go home?

“Hi,” you answered with a bright smile.

“So? What are we going to watch?” he asked you.

You struggled to find your voice as he intensely stared at you with these deep dark of his…

You really were pathetic…

“ _North by Northwest_ ,” you stated.

He nodded.

“That’s a good choice.”

“You like this movie?”

“Very much. Why this one though?”

You walked to buy your tickets.

“The real reason?” you asked, and he nodded. “At this hour it’s either _Psycho_ or _North by Northwest_ and _Psycho_ scares me way too much to be used for a date.”

He laughed.

“It’s not _that_ scary,” he replied.

“I beg your pardon? It gives me nightmares everytime.”

He laughed even more, and you soon joined him.

“Don’t laugh at me!” you protested as you waited to buy your tickets for the movie.

“You mustn’t like horror movies then.”

“Depends.”

You bought your tickets, and he bought some popcorn for himself. And you immediately regretted not to have bought yourself some as well, because… okay you were not hungry at all but it was _popcorn_.

You chose your seats and waited for the movie to start.

He caught you glancing at the popcorn several times, and he soon offered you some, an amused smile on his face.

You picked some of his food, blushing slightly.

“Thanks…” you said, eating the candies. “I heard that you liked torturing Steve at the gym.”

He laughed once more.

“He’s ridiculous when it comes to sport,” he mocked his friend.

“Is it for a role that you have to do so much sport? Steve told me and Leila that you were spending lots of time working out.”

He nodded, swallowing his mouthful of popcorn.

“And where are you shooting this new movie of yours?” you asked.

He shrugged.

“It’s not officially decided yet but… Probably Canada.”

You nodded slowly, and he threw a cautious look at you.

“This part of the job is a problem?” he asked.

You shrugged.

“Phones exist for a reason,” you answered.

You exchanged a smile.

“And why do you have to spend so much time running and sweating?” you asked, stealing more popcorn from him.

“It’s just because it’s going to be a quite physical role,” he shrugged. “I don’t have to lose or gain muscles or weight but… I don’t want to be out of breath every five seconds, ‘cause it’s gonna be pretty intense.”

“That’s a shame,” you teased.

You both chuckled.

“Why? I’m not your type?” he asked, a playful glint alit in his eyes.

“Absolutely not,” you shook your head, lying.

“Really? And what would be your type then?”

“No beard,” you said, starting to count on your fingers.

He rolled his eyes.

“If it’s the only problem… it can be arranged, you know?” he said.

“I prefer blond men.”

“Hmm…”

“Blue eyes.”

He winced.

“And very muscular. Like… very, very strong and muscular.”

He started to laugh.

“You basically described Thor.”

You both let out a loud laugh.

“That’s it! I’ve just taken the wrong actor here!” you said, as if you had had a sudden revelation. “I need to get in touch with Chris Hemsworth. That’s the guy of my dreams.”

“He’s married, I’m afraid.”

You heaved a dramatic sigh.

“I should have known. With my luck…”

You both laughed loudly again, drawing to you dark glances from the people around you.

The lights suddenly vanished, and the movie started, the loud music covering the last waves of your laughter.

You focused on the screen, and you didn’t look at each other for a long while.

Until, halfway through the movie actually. Because then you both moved your hands to grab some popcorn and your fingers collided together.

You looked at each other. You could read on his face despite the deem light that he was waiting for your reaction.

You could push him away or take a step towards him. He was giving you the choice.

You hesitated, infinite seconds flying by as you were both perfectly motionless, your fingertips still touching.

But there was something about him that made you reluctant at pushing him away.

You thought about your ex. This jerk who had broken your heart.

Were you ready to take such a leap again?

Ben’s stare was intense and gentle. He seemed to care about you.

Slowly, you intertwined your fingers with his, and the more your fingers mingled together, the more his lips curved up into a smile.

A reassuring, warm smile, that let you know that you were safe with him.

You smiled, shy now, and turned towards the movie again.

You didn’t know if you were safe with him yet. But you were ready to take a few more risks to find out.

And for the rest of the movie, you didn’t let go of his hand, and none of you ate popcorn again.

——————————————————————————————————

He was supposed to wait 24 hours. The traditional 24 hours before calling you again. But as he was lying on his bed that night, staring at the ceiling, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. You were supposed to meet with your family that evening, so you had declined his invitation when he had proposed to take you to a restaurant he thought you would like. And he hoped you hadn’t lied to him and given him a fake excuse to avoid going eat dinner with him. The thought had been hunting him since he had walked into his flat.

He hadn’t eaten anything that evening, torturing himself on this choice he had to make. Call you now or wait.

He had an important meeting the next day and was supposed to read a part of the script to get ready, but he had been unable to stay focused for more than five minutes.

He glanced at his phone on his bedside table again.

Call you now or wait for the usual 24 hours?

He heaved a sigh, rubbing his tired eyes.

He was pathetic. These were the kind of questions he used to ask himself when he was a teenager. He was too old now for such a stupid debate with himself.

But he just couldn’t resist…

“Fuck this…” he muttered as he reached for his phone.

He decided to write you a text.

_'So, how’s dinner?’_

He looked at the clock on the wall. It was almost 11pm.

You answered faster than he expected.

_'Switching between boring and family drama. The usual.’_

He smiled, before replying.

_'I bet you regret my offer for some very good Italian food now.’_

_'You can’t imagine.’_

He smiled, but bit down on his lip, hesitating for the next message he would send.

But you sent him a text before he could decide.

_'I feel awful but the dessert is really too disgusting to be eaten.’_

You sent him a picture of what looked vaguely like a tart. He laughed before sending a reply.

’ _And you could have had pastas and tiramisu.’_

_'Oh my…’_

He laughed again, before taking a more careful look at the picture you had just sent.

Clearly there was a glass of wine before you, and the hand of another woman was distinguishable at the corner of the picture. The hand of an old woman.

He grinned, heaving a sigh of relief.

You hadn’t fled, you hadn’t lied, you really were busy tonight and couldn’t stay.

And the realisation was enough for him to stop doubting.

’ _Are you free on Thursday night?’_

He bit fiercely his thumb as he waited for your answer.

_'Yes, I am. Why, do you have something in mind?’_

_'Steve is abandoning me for this exposition I have to go to. Would you like to come?’_

_'The boring thing?’_

He winced.

’ _Yes, well… I’ll make it entertaining for you.’_

You took an eternity to answer.

’ _I guess I can’t let you go there alone, can I?_ ’

He grinned.

’ _I’ll pick you up at 7 then.’_

You merely replied with a smiling emoji, and he grinned again. He then sent a text to Steve.

’ _Forget about Thursday, I’ve found someone else to come with me to the gallery._ ’

Seconds later, Steve was answering.

’ _Who?’_

_'Someone much more beautiful than you.’_

_'Y/N?’_

_'Yep. And if she asks, you have abandoned me and refused to come with me. Warn Leila.’_

_'See… I was right to force you into this double date!_ ’

Ben merely laughed, putting his phone back on his bedside table, and picking up the script he had thrown away earlier that evening. He opened it at the right page, and started to work, a peaceful smile on his face.

He really did feel like a teenage boy all over again…


	3. Date n°3

“So… what do you think this painting is supposed to represent?”

“I have absolutely no idea.”

“Did your friend paint that?”

“Apparently he did, yes.”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand much to his… art.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’ve known him for years and I still don’t understand anything to his paintings either.”

You laughed, looking at Ben again. He was standing next to you, staring at the painting before the two of you. He was wearing a black tuxedo that made your stomach go crazy every time you turned to him.

And judging by the way he was regularly letting his eyes roam across your body, he seemed to appreciate your dark dress as well.

You stared at the painting again. It was nothing more than three lines of colour on a white background. Blue, violet and orange. Nothing more.

“Do you think the choice of colours is meant to tell us something?” you asked him, tilting your head to the side as you were searching for any meaning to this picture.

“I suppose so,” Ben nodded. “I’m afraid all it’s telling me is that I’d better be at home watching a movie than here staring at this thing.”

You laughed again, drawing glares towards you. All the guests seemed so serious…

“I have another question,” you told Ben, lowering your voice and he had to bend slightly towards you to catch your words. “Why is everybody acting as if we were at funerals?”

An amused smile appeared on his lips.

“I have no idea. Apparently painting three stripes upon a white surface is an extremely serious business.”

“I can see that.”

“It’s completely beyond my understanding though.”

“I’m afraid I still prefer Monnet,” you nodded.

“Me too.”

He grabbed two drinks as a waiter was passing by.

“But we don’t have to get interested in the paintings actually, you know?” he reassured you, offering you a glass of champagne. “I’ve told my friend how amazing his work is and how proud I am of him, so now he just needs me to stick around for a while, but we don’t have to get involved in the whole serious process.”

“Your friend seemed very nervous about tonight,” you nodded, remembering your meeting with Ben’s friend.

“It’s a lot of stress for him. And I know it helps him to have a friend in the midst of critics and other painters. So… here I am.”

“That’s very kind of you.”

“And very boring to me as well,” he sighed.

He drank a gulp of alcohol.

“Although… I have to admit…” he added softly, looking at you now. “It’s much more pleasant in your company.”

You smiled, conscious of your reddening cheeks.

“I’m not that bored either,” you answered.

“Good. It means that my stupid jokes are efficient.”

“You have a rather good sense of humour,” you admitted.

“Is that on the list for the perfect man?” he asked. “Because if we refer to your list about the physical appearance, I was losing against Thor the last time we checked about that.”

“Well, you can’t have _everything_ wrong, can you?” you teased.

“So maybe my sense of humour can save me this time?”

“Maybe,” you mumbled in your drink, your voice barely audible above the sound of conversations all around you.

But judging by the grin that formed on Ben’s face, he had clearly heard your answer.

You were suddenly aware of someone staring at you. The strange and familiar sensation of someone’s attention fixed on the back of your head. You turned slowly, trying to be discreet as you searched for the owner of the stares that focused on you.

Your eyes grew wide as you saw him, diving into his green eyes. The shock almost made you let go of your glass. You remained frozen on the spot for a moment, transfixed, holding this familiar stare that had haunted your dreams for so long now.

Your ex-boyfriend was here.

This same ex who had broken your heart. This same ex you were trying to forget.

What was he doing here? He hated art anyway.

“Y/N?”

You jumped at the sound of Ben’s voice. You looked up at him again, your shocked gaze meeting his curious one.

“Is everything all right?” he asked, and you could see a worried frown on his face now.

“My…” you cleared your throat, struggling to let the words out. “My ex-boyfriend is here.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Your ex-boyfriend?” he asked, his tone neutral.

He remembered Steve’s words about your ex. He knew it was something still painful to you.

But he couldn’t completely push away the fact that he was annoyed by your ex being here tonight. So he reckoned that a neutral tone was the best he could do.

“You see the man with the pale blue shirt?” you indicated him.

He searched for a few seconds, before nodding slowly.

Black hair, green eyes, blue shirt, good tan…

“That’s him?” he asked.

“Yep,” you nodded.

He could see your discomfort. He could see that you were scared that he could come and talk to you.

“Would you like us to leave?” he asked kindly.

“What about your nervous friend?”

But he merely shrugged.

“He’ll get over it.”

He gave you a small smile.

“We can leave if you want,” he added.

You turned towards your ex again. He was with three other men you didn’t know. Probably colleagues. That would explain why he was in a gallery in the first place. You saw him taking a step towards you.

You turned to Ben again, panicked.

“He’s walking towards us?” you asked, your voice shaking.

“I’m afraid so,” he nodded.

You fiercely bit your lower lip before speaking again, your voice urgent and scared.

“I know you’ll think that this is completely mad but… please act like you’re my boyfriend.”

He frowned hard.

“What?” he asked.

“Please,” you begged. “Please, act like your my boyfriend, like we’ve been together for a while. Please, Ben. He won’t stop talking to us if you don’t.”

But before he could reply, your ex was by your side.

He smiled at you. The bloody son of a bitch…

“Y/N… you’re beautiful,” he breathed.

“Good evening, Josh,” you replied coolly.

“Josh,” he told Ben, looking at the man beside you now. “Y/N’s…”

“Ex-boyfriend, I know,” Ben nodded, shaking Josh’s hand.“Ben. Y/N’s _current_ boyfriend.”

Josh clenched his jaw.

“I see…”

He turned to you again.

“I didn’t know you were not single anymore.”

“Why would you? It’s none of your business anyway,” you snapped.

“I guess you’re right.”

But soon, his smile was back on his face.

“What about we all have a drink a bit later tonight?” he proposed, and there was poison in his voice. “You know… catch up on each other’s news and everything.”

“I’m afraid we’re quite busy tonight,” Ben replied, wrapping a protective arm around your waist, and you let him pull you closer to him.

“Another night this week then? You still have the same number, Y/N, right?”

Ben took a step toward Josh, a smile on his face. Although it was not a kind smile like the ones he meant for you. This one signed the promise for a storm.

“I’m not sure it’s a good idea that you would see us, in any circumstance, at any moment,” Ben said coldly.

“Why, _Ben_? You’re feeling endangered by me?”

Ben let out a wry laugh.

“Why would I?”

“Because you two are clearly not that close,” Josh answered. “I’ve been watching you for a while now. You look like two friends, not lovers.”

“Perhaps I just don’t like being public.”

“Perhaps you’re just a good friend who is lying to get her out of an uncomfortable meeting with her ex.”

He looked at you.

“I’m right, Y/N, I know I am,” he went on. “Why are you acting like this again? We’re meant to be together. I made a mistake, I think you made me pay a fair share for it.”

“You cheated on me,” you breathed. “What do you expect?”

“A second chance?”

“Go to hell.”

One of his colleagues called for him, and you and Ben exchanged a glance as Josh was turning his back to the two of you.

You mouthed an apology.

And before Ben could react, you had crushed your lips together.

You could feel him arch his eyebrows in surprise, but he was quick to react, wrapping his arms around you.

And even if you had done this just to make Josh go away, things went a bit out of hand when Ben bitted tenderly your lower lip, making you moan and part your lips for him.

And you forgot about the people around you, and the meaningless paintings, and your ex-boyfriend standing next to you. As Ben was deepening your kiss and you were running a hand through his smooth hair, there was nothing in the world but Ben’s tight embrace and hungry kiss.

When you broke away, you were both gasping for air. And then the scenery around you was back in your mind.

You didn’t need to turn towards Josh to know that he was staring at you.

“Can we go now?” you asked Ben.

He nodded.

“Of course, come on.”

But Josh stopped you, holding your arm tightly.

“What kind of game do you think you’re playing at?” he asked you, his voice shaking with anger and jealousy now.

“It’s not a game,” you answered.

Ben placed himself between the two of you, and pointed at your arm that Josh was still holding tightly.

“Let go of her,” Ben ordered.

“Why don’t you rather move?” Josh snapped, infuriated now.

“I reckon you’re the one who should move.”

“Really?”

“Well, you’re the ex here.”

“You’d better watch your mouth.”

“Or else what? I’m not afraid of you. You’re just a jerk, I’ve come across hundreds of men like you in my life.”

“You should be.”

“Let go of her, right now.”

“Or else?”

“That’s rather pathetic you know? To hold on your ex is never particularly healthy…”

But before he could add anything else, Josh’s fist had collided with his nose and Ben fell backwards, his head hitting the ground quite violently.

You gasped, kneeling beside him.

“Oh my God…” you breathed. “Ben are you all right?”

He was holding his nose, blood flowing between his fingers, but he nodded. He sat up, a hand still clasped around his nose, while his other hand massaged the back of his head.

“You’re sure you’re okay?” you asked.

He nodded again, and you helped him to stand up. Josh hadn’t moved at all, although now everyone’s attention was turned towards the three of you.

“Are you completely mad?” you shouted at Josh, but Ben walked before you without a single glance towards you.

Ben took a step closer to your ex-boyfriend, and he lowered the hand he had used to cover his nose. It was bleeding, but didn’t seem broken.

“That was a nice punch,” he said, a note of humour colouring his warm voice.

But before Josh could reply, Ben had punched him hard on his cheekbone, making him fall to the ground as well.

Ben winced, holding his hand, as you could only gasp again.

You put a hand on Ben’s arm, not daring to look at Josh, who was now surrendered by his colleagues.

“Let’s get out of here,” you breathed, and Ben merely nodded in response, taking your hand and guiding you towards the street.

You walked towards his car, and he gave you his keys, unable to drive as his nose was still bleeding profusely.

He gave you his address, grabbing for a tissue in the glove compartment, and you drove in silence for a while.

“Do you think you need to see a doctor?” you asked after a while.

But Ben shook his head, his head thrown back, looking at the ceiling, still pressing the tissue against his nostrils.

“I’ll be just fine,” he reassured you. “I don’t think it’s broken. It’s just bleeding a bit.”

“That’s not what I call ‘bleeding a bit’, though.”

“I think it stopped.”

He lowered his head again, and when he stopped pressing the tissue against his nose, no blood appeared on his face.

“See, I’m just fine,” Ben smiled.

You looked at him for a few seconds. His shirt and face were covered with blood. His knuckles had turned slightly blue, bruises forming upon his hand.

“How’s your head?” you asked, focusing on the road again.

“It’s nothing.”

You arrived before his home, and you walked with him inside.

It was simple and warm, welcoming and modern. White walls and movie posters, and lots of books. You felt comfortable in such a place.

You followed him to the kitchen.

“You want to drink something?” he asked.

You shook your head.

“You have ice?”

“Nope.”

You opened his fridge while he poured himself a glass of whiskey, and you found a bag of frozen vegetables.

“This will do,” you said, placing the bag against the back of his head.

He smiled, holding the bag against his head.

“I’m fine,” he smiled.

You intensely stared at each other for a moment, and you thought you were going to lose yourself in his dark eyes.

You were hesitating. It was dangerous for you to enter into a relationship with him. And yet, what had transpired between the two of you as you had kissed couldn’t be merely ignored. You needed to deal with this issue. The question was, how would you deal with it?

“Thank you,” you breathed. “For what you did about Josh.”

“The part where I lied for you or the part where I got punched… or the part where I punched him? Although the last part was pretty pleasant actually, so no need to thank me for that.”

You smiled.

“All three of them actually.”

“I can’t say that all of them were a pleasure but…”

You both laughed, and he turned to the sink to wash his hands and face still covered with dry blood.

He put the frozen vegetables down on the wooden table and turned towards you once he was clean again.

“You’re sure your nose isn’t broken?” you asked him.

But he shook his head, silently walking towards you.

“Are we going to talk about it? Or are we going to play hide and seek forever?”

You stared at him, your heart rushing under your ribs.

“I love playing hide and seek,” you answered, too scared of what could happen if you spoke the words that burnt your tongue.

He took one more step closer, and now you were just inches apart…

“I don’t like that game at all,” he replied.

You looked down at you feet, but he took you chin between his fingertips, and forced you to look up at him again.

“That wasn’t just an act,” he said, staring at you with his intense dark eyes that seemed to be reading your very soul. “It wasn’t just to play pretend and push your ex away.”

“How can you know?”

He smiled.

“I’m an actor. I’ve kissed a few women just because it was a role. And trust me, when you have to kiss someone you have no interest in on an emotional point of view, you don’t kiss them like you kissed me tonight. Nor like I kissed you, by the way.”

You didn’t say a word, merely looking up at him.

“So?” he went on. “What do we do now?”

You shrugged.

“I don’t know,” you answered, and he could see that your answer was earnest.

You were lost. Too much had happened in a single night.

He nodded, freeing your chin from his warm fingers. And you found yourself wishing his skin was still against yours.

“I should take you home, then,” he said, a reassuring smile on his face. “You should think about it, and tell me when you’ve found that out. I can wait till you’ve figured out what you truly want.”

“What do _you_ want?”

He brushed his thumb along your cheekbone, and you felt shivers run across your body.

“I think you know what I want,” he answered.

“Answer the damn question,” you ordered, although your voice sounded fragile and weak.

He took your face in both his hands, his long fingers partly lost in your hair.

“This is what I want,” he whispered.

You barely saw the gap between your faces shrink that he was already pressing his lips against yours, and you closed your eyes.

This time you were the one to deepen the kiss, and were the first to wrap your arms around him, running your hand through his hair.

He was dangerous and you shouldn’t be doing what you were doing, and you knew it.

But after all that had happened these past few days, and these past few hours… you couldn’t handle worrying about tomorrow. For now there was no tomorrow. You could still decide in the morning if you wanted to stay or if you sneaked out of his flat unnoticed.

For now, you _needed him_.

And he knew it.

He didn’t stop you when you unbuttoned his shirt, nor when you pulled it down his arms, the soft fabric falling to the ground in a thud. You didn’t protest when he pulled down the zipper at the back of your dress, his hands now roaming freely across your naked back. He didn’t stop you when you ran your fingers down his chest. You didn’t protest when he kissed his way down your neck, pushing you against the sink.

Right before his hands would pull your gown down your body, he looked at you one last time, as to check if it was okay for him to undress you, as to check if you wanted this too.

And when you looked into his dark eyes again, desire making the brown of his irises almost disappear in favour of his dilated pupils, you knew you were gone for good…


	4. Date n°4

You were staring at the ceiling, your eyes open in the dark. The sheet was soft against your skin, your back sinking in the comfortable mattress. His forehead rested against your shoulder, and his skin was warm against yours. One of his arms was flung across your stomach under the sheet, and you could feel his long fingers resting numbly on your hip. His soft breathing was like a lullaby.

You didn’t know what to do. You were at war with yourself.

Would you run away before he would wake up or stay until morning?

If you stayed, he would probably prepare you some tea with pancakes, and you smiled at the thought.

He would wake up with a smile on his face at the sight of you still in his arms, and he would drop a sweet kiss on your forehead, mumbling in his morning voice a good morning to you. He would hold you more tightly for a few minutes, giving you both some time to wake up completely.

He would smile as you would sit up, covering yourself with the sheet. His smile would turn into a grin as you stole his shirt, a mischievous glint alit in your eyes. And he would prepare breakfast, and it would feel natural, as if you had lived such a moment a million times before, because everything seemed natural with Ben.

So why were you hesitating between this lovely morning and making a run to the door?

You were scared. You were terrified. You were still upset after this impromptu meeting with your ex-boyfriend.

And you knew Ben was the kind of man who could steal your heart as easily as he would lift up a feather. What if he broke it…

You were too vulnerable with him. You couldn’t control the way he was making you feel, and this night was the final proof.

You couldn’t take the risk. He could quash your heart in a single movement, a single word… You had been through this already, you didn’t have the strength to do it again. You needed to save yourself, you needed to run away while you still could tear yourself away from his arms, while he didn’t have your heart yet. You needed to protect yourself…

Decision taken.

You moved slowly his arm away from your stomach, and slowly, cautiously, you slipped away from him.

You sat up on the edge of the bed, swinging your legs and resting your feet against the cold wooden floor. You bent, picking up your clothes, and you started to silently dress up.

But when you tried to stand to put your dress on, you felt warm fingers wrap around your wrist, in a soft and yet firm hold.

“Where are you going?” Ben asked, his voice made hoarse by sleep.

And your heart skipped a beat at the sound of his voice.

You chose to remain silent, and let his thumb stroke softly the inside of your wrist… And it sent goosebumps throughout your entire body.

“It’s four in the morning,” he said. “Where are you going?”

Again you didn’t say a word.

“You were trying to run away?” he asked, and despite his best efforts to hide his feelings and to keep his tone neutral, you could hear pain in his voice. “You were trying to leave before I wake up? Am I right?”

You nodded slowly, and he let go of your wrist.

“Alright then,” he breathed.

You turned towards him. He was staring at you, his brown eyes barely visible in the dark of the room.

“What is it?” he asked softly.

“I thought you would try to make me stay,” you confessed, and he could hear in your voice that you were disappointed somehow.

He extended his hand to his bedside table and turned on the light. You blinked, before drinking in the sight of his bare chest, and messy dark hair, and glimmering brown eyes.

You were losing your will to leave again…

“I don’t want you to leave,” he answered earnestly. “But I’m not going to make a scene to make you stay. We’re both adults, I reckon you know better than me what is good for you.”

“What if I don’t know what is good for me at all?” you confessed, your voice nothing but a shaking whisper.

He sat up, and dropped a sweet kiss on your shoulder.

“Stay then,” he whispered, staring deep into your eyes. “Stay at least this morning. Have a breakfast with me, and you’ll decide what you want to do later. But now, you’re just waking up, maybe you need to think about that…”

“I’ve been thinking about that for a while now already.”

You intensely stared at each other, and you lost yourself in his dark eyes. They were like a trap for your soul, and you kept falling in every single time.

“And? What’s the result of this reflection of yours?” he asked.

“I’m scared to stay,” you confessed.

“You’re scared of me?” he asked, an amused smile on his lips. “Sweetheart, I bark a bit sometimes but I don’t bite.”

“What if you break my heart just like he did.”

You didn’t need to speak his name for Ben to understand who you were referring to.

He stroked tenderly you cheek.

“I’m not going to break your heart, Y/N,” he said, and his voice sounded like a promise. “You’re the one who’s breaking mine now.”

You stopped breathing.

And as crazy as it may sound, you believed him.

“Don’t leave,” he asked again. “Please, Y/N… don’t leave.”

You remained frozen for a moment, unable to tear your eyes away from his, unable to move away from his touch, unable to think…

You both jumped when you phone rang, and the annoying noise was enough to bring both of you back to the ground.

You grabbed your phone.

“Yes, Steve?” you said softly, still staring at Ben.

“GET YOUR ASS HERE RIGHT AWAY!”

You started, holding your phone further away from your ear, and Ben and you both raised an eyebrow.

“Steve?” you asked.

“I’m going to be A FUCKING DAD! GET YOUR ASS TO THE HOPSITAL RIGHT AWAY!”

“Oh shit…” you breathed.

Ben grinned.

“I’ll take you there,” he offered, and you nodded.

“We’re coming, Steve.”

“Wait… _we?_ ” your friend breathed.

Clearly, he was trying to run through the hospital.

“We’re coming, relax and stay with Leila.”

“Don’t worry about that… She’s holding on my hand so tightly anyway, I reckon she’ll rip my arm in two if I try to make her let go.”

You smiled, but Steve had ended the conversation, and you turned to Ben again.

“We need to go,” you said.

He nodded slowly, and you saw him glimpsing at your lips, but he didn’t lean down to kiss you. Instead, he turned around and stood up, looking for his clothes all around the room.

And you turned around in a hurry as he was very naked…

When you arrived at the hospital, the baby was already born.

A beautiful little girl that had her mother’s eyes and her father’s dark hair.

“Look,” Leila told her baby as she handed her to you so you could take her in your arms. “That’s your godmother, Y/N.”

You were surprised by how fragile she looked, and how light she was in your arms. It was almost like you were holding nothing at all.

Ben was watching over your shoulder, a bright grin on his face.

“I reckon you did a great job,” he congratulated the parents.

“Yeah… you did,” you nodded.

The baby yawned, and you couldn’t help but feel like your heart was melting.

“You’re so cute, little one,” you breathed.

“Come on, Ben’s turn,” Steve said, and you turned around to let Ben hold her.

He immediately made a funny face, that made her shriek in delight.

“Perhaps we should make him godfather. He seems to handle her quite well,” Steve proposed, smiling.

“No need for that,” Leila joked. “He’ll enter the family when these two will get married anyway.”

You rolled your eyes, and Ben merely laughed, still cradling the little baby in his arms. Although, when you looked at Ben again, you could see sadness in his eyes.

After a few minutes, she had fallen asleep in Ben’s arms, and you left Leila and Steve rest as well and enjoy their newborn child.

“I’m starving,” Ben sighed. “Would you like to take a coffee?”

“Sure,” you nodded.

He guided you towards the cafeteria inside the hospital, and he took a coffee for you, along with some pastries as a breakfast.

Nor the drink nor the food were very good, but you didn’t really care. As you walked to the window, watching as the sun rose above the city, the world seemed happy and full of light.

And you realized that you were not afraid anymore.

“Does a terrible coffee in a very creepy hospital count like a date?” you asked Ben.

He looked at you, leaning against the window.

“That would mean that you could have accepted to have another date with me,” he answered. “And the last time I checked you weren’t sure to want one.”

You didn’t answer, and merely set your eyes on the city again.

Ben let out a little laugh.

“You know… Steve warned me,” Ben said softly. “He told me to be careful with you. Right after the double date, he told me to take my time with you, that you hadn’t forgotten your ex yet. I guess I should have listened to him, and been more careful.”

He was staring at you, you could feel his gaze on you. But… you couldn’t find the strength to hold his stare for now.

“So… one night stand?” Ben asked you.

He was awful at hiding how much it hurt him to think of the two of you following different paths now.

“At least tell me you didn’t spend the night with me just because of your ex…”

“Of course not,” you interrupted him.

You drank up a gulp of coffee, thinking hard, your eyes still resting upon the rooftops that shined with the morning light.

You needed to take a decision, and you needed to do it now.

“I don’t want to stop seeing you,” he went on, and you know he was earnest. “I don’t want to be just a one-night stand.”

He shrugged, looking down at his feet.

“If you need more time to forget your ex, I can understand that. I can wait. I can wait but I can’t be just the guy you see when you feel lonely. I can wait for you, if you ask me to, but then I want this to be a real relationship. Do you understand?”

You nodded slowly.

“What do you want then?” he asked.

You remained silent for a few seconds, and it was enough for him to jump to a conclusion…

“I’ll give you more time then,” he mumbled under his breath.

It was obvious it wasn’t what he wanted.

And _you_ knew what you wanted to.

So you shook your head, and brushed your fingers with his.

He looked up at you, staring at you intensely.

“I want this to count as our fourth date,” you said softly.

You looked at him, and you both smiled.

“Although…” you went on, holding his hand now. “I would appreciate some better food for our fifth date.”

He laughed.

“I’m very good at cooking,” he answered. “And I bake very good pancakes.”

“Why am I not surprised?”

“And I bet you’re an awful cook.”

“No I’m not!”

You both laughed.

“I can cook pastas,” you replied.

“Like any fifteen year old. I’m not impressed.”

“Oh… well… If you’re so proud of your cooking skills, why don’t you show me?”

He put down his coffee on the table next to him, and he took your own cup from your hand too, putting it down as well.

“I think I’d rather do something else than cooking with you right now,” he confessed, smiling.

“Man… did I fall on a pervert of some kind?”

He laughed, and you soon joined him.

“I was thinking about kissing you, but I would be more than happy to go a lot further,” he replied, smirking.

You rolled your eyes, but you didn’t push him away when he rested his hands on your waist, nor when he slowly leaned down to kiss you.

“You’re sure that’s what you want?” he asked softly, his lips merely inches away from yours.

“Are you sure that’s what _you_ want?” you asked back. “Because… you have to be warned… sometimes I’m kind of a mess.”

“Really?”

“Yeah and… I’m not very organized. And I don’t cook very well…”

“I knew it,” he smirked.

“And… I’m not a morning person at all, which means that I am in a terrible mood half the day.”

He brushed his nose against yours, and you gasped. His lips were so close you could feel his breath on your mouth… and it was forbidding your brain to work.

“And… I think… I think…”

“You think too much,” he smiled.

The next second he had shushed you, crushing your lips together.

And you smiled into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Double dates most definitely meant trouble for your poor little heart…


End file.
